#little hope jeannie

[tatjana-fantasy]

Day 16: Hippie Junk

This was originally going to be a depressing chapter, but I wasn't happy with it, so I changed it :) Btw, Jeannie is one of Tanya's co-workers ^^

16 – Hippie Junk (Jeannie)

When it came to birthday presents, no one could beat Jeannie. She always found the perfect present for the people she loved, and was happy to help others find it, too. It was a matter of observation and digging around yourself, until the birthday child’s true passion was revealed. And honestly, for Jeannie – outgoing, charming and very persistent – it was even easy. For as long as she could remember, birthdays had always been her passion.

Naturally, she was very happy when Vince asked her for help. “I don’t know what I should get Tanya,” he confessed. “Maybe I should know because she’s my girlfriend, but I’m at a real loss here. Can you help me out?”

Jeannie beamed. “Of course! I think I already have an idea. You both practice pagan magic, don’t you?”

Vince nodded, his fingers brushed the sun charm around his neck. Jeannie tilted her head, thinking. “I assume you already gifted Tanya a moon charm?” He nodded. “What else does she have?” To her delight, Tanya only possessed some jewelry she got from him and her family, but nothing that showed her pagan beliefs. Which naturally meant that some extra accessories would be the perfect present for her.

With some help from Vince, Jeannie assembled a little gift box that consisted of a wooden crescent moon (carved by Vince), some bracelets (provided by her), a few rune stones (bought in Little Hope’s museum shop) and a bunch of magazines (also bought in Little Hope’s museum shop). To Jeannie, it looked more like a hippie than a pagan box, but Vince was happy with the result and thanked her about a thousand times. “You’re a real life-saver, Jeannie.”

That was clearly an exaggeration, but when Vince reported a few days later that Tanya had been overjoyed by his present, Jeannie felt quite proud for choosing a perfect present yet again.

Next year, she would get Tanya something even better.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Sex while high with Theo 🤌🏻🤌🏻 Just so slow and sloppy

I hope this works! I've been high, but haven't fucked high, so idk what I'm doing lol.

Lazy and High

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: Use of weed, cussing, a little dry humping, unprotected sex, cream pie.

18+ Minors DNI!

You were already feeling the buzz from the joint you and Theo were sharing. Your body felt light and a bit tingly. You giggled as you passed the joint back to Theo, blowing the smoking right into his face.

“You're a little brat, cara mia.” He said as he took the joint from you, smiling up at you.

You were situated on top of him, lazily grinding down on his cock.

“I'm your little brat, though. And you love it.” You said, biting your bottom lip.

“I'd love it more if you finally put my dick in you.” He teased before taking a hit from the joint.

You moved to undo his pants and strip down yourself before straddling his lap again. His hands found your hips as you guided his cock to your entrance, slowly sinking down on him.

“That's it, bella. You feel so fucking good.” He moaned, watching his cock enter you. “Only been humping my dick for the past 30 minutes, you fucking tease.” He gave your ass a spank and you yelped in surprise.

“No fun if I can't tease you, Teddy.” Your smile returned as you started grinding on him, very slowly, very lazily. You took the joint from him and took another hit.

“You look so sexy like this, principessa. Riding my cock like you own it. It's all fucking yours, cara mia.” He said, putting his hands behind his head as he watched you.

“I just think you're being lazy today. Making me do all the work.” You quipped, putting your hands on his chest for more leverage.

“Mmm, that could also be part of why I love this.” He played along, grabbing the joint from you to put out beside him on the nightstand.

“You feel so good, Teddy.” You moaned, throwing your head back.

“I do, do I?” He smiled, putting his hand back behind his head. “Not just stroking my ego now, principessa?”

“No, but you're stroking something else.” You smiled as you looked back at him.

“Little brat.” He said, pulling you down to kiss him and flipped you onto your back, thrusting in and out of you slowly. “You don't always need to make dirty jokes.”

“Much more fun this way.” You retorted, biting back a moan. “You love it.”

“You love testing me, bella.” He moved to kiss your neck, biting ever so softly.

“Works out in my favor.” Your hands went to his hair.

He just kept kissing and biting your neck, thrusting slowly but deep, the room filling with the sounds of both of your moans. The high from the weed made your orgasm stronger and longer once it hit you, your orgasm sending Theo into his, shooting his cum into you.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[chloe-skywalker]

A Safe Feeling - Eric Coulter

Eric x fem!reader

Warnings: 

Word count: 1,402

Requested: Hi can you do a imagine where the reader is the daughter of Jeannie Matthew and she divergent and she in a relationship with eric and her best froend is four and later tris please and thank you - @rachelcarroll1819

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting!

Masterlist

Divergent Masterlist

******************************************************************

“Mathews!” Eric called out with a smirk as he saw Y/n exit the hallway near the dining hall.

“You know I have a first name.” Y/n turned around crossing her arms over her chest. Eric knew she hated her mom’s views and being called by her old last name. She’s not Erudite anymore.

Eric gave a nod as he walked over to her, standing in front of her. “Yeah, but that’s for more intimate-”

“Shut up.” Y/n giggled and slapped him on the bicep as Eric chuckled, moving his hands to her hips.

“Where are you off to?” Eric asked as Y/n moved her arms to wrap around his neck. Normally Eric didn’t like showing PDA, unless it was to show she was taken.

“Need to talk to Four about some stuff.” She answered, tilting her head. It wasn’t easy to have Four as a best friend and date Eric. But the two agreed to be sival for her sake.

“Divergent stuff?” Eric spoke quietly, so no one would hear around him. When she had first told him about being Divergent, Eric didn’t take it well at first but then he realized he didn’t care. He loves her anyway.

“Will you keep it down. You know it could get me killed.” Even though he was quite Y/n still was scared at any possibility of anyone knowing. Being Divergent is a death sentence.

Eric nodded as a sigh of apology, moving his right hand up and down her back to comfort her growing nerves. “Is it about the nightmares?”

Y/n nodded with a grimace. “They have to do with my fears and with what I am, he's the best to talk to about it. And he’s my friend.”

Eric rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek at his sight irritation. “Don’t remind me.”

“You're lucky I know what part of that you're referring to.” Y/n smirked, poking him in the chest.

“Oh, what part?” Eric played along, hoping to stall her a little longer.

“The Four part. He’s my best friend, has been since initiation and it bothers you like no other.” Y/n smirked a little, but in her defense she tried to hide it.

Eric shrugged. “I don’t like sharing.”

Y/n let out an amused soft laugh. “I’ve noticed.”

“You know I love you and I don’t care about the Divergent past, right?” He wanted to make sure she knew, he always made sure. Yeah he got annoyed that she’s friends with Four but her being Divergent? That doesn’t bother him.

y/n smiled. “I know. You always reassure me of that.”

Eric nodded. “And I’ll continue to.”

Y/n moved to leave his embrace, really needing to go see Four. “Love you.” 

Eric pulled her into a rough kiss before letting go of her waist and back. “Love ya too.”

“I’ll see you later.” Y/n smiled at him turning around and heading off to figure her nightmare, fear problem out.

^      ^      ^

After about an hour Four and Y/n sat down, joined by Tris.

“The only thing I can think of is that your fears are changing.” Four stated leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“But how can I have less fears then when we first came here? How can they change?” Y/n wondered out loud confused. Shouldn’t she have more over time not less?

“I don’t know, Y/n.” Four wished he could give her an explanation, but he had nothing.

“Maybe its Eric.” Tris said, jumping into the conversation.

“Huh?” Y/n turned to her younger friend with confusion and curiosity. Four looked to Tris with a furrowed expression.

“Well he’s protective of you. He’d kill for you, so what if the feeling of protection he gives you is making some of your fears go away.” Tris explained what she meant.

“She has a good point.” Four looked at Y/n.

“Well that’s a development.” Y/n let out an amused puff of air.

“Bad?” Tris tilted her head, looking at her friend trying to see how she was feeling about this new ‘development’ as she called it.

“No.” Y/n shook her head.

“He’s been worried. You should tell him.” Four stated. He may not get along with Eric but he could tell how worried he’s been over Y/n’s situation. Eric could hide it well but Four could still see it.

“Yeah.” Y/n spoke, grabbing her jacket before standing up and heading towards the door. “Yeah, I’m gonna do that. See ya both tomorrow.”

Once Y/n left Four and Tris she headed to the training room, knowing that Eric was training the intaties today. It wasn’t hard to find him once entering the big room. He stood out.

“Hey handsome.” Y/n said as she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Hey sexy.” He smirked, and as he expected her reaction was to slap him on his arm. It caused him to chuckle.

“Stop it.” Y/n laughed at his behavior. Always so different with her then around anyone else. “Can we talk?”\

“Yeah,” Eric was trying not to be worried. He turned his focus back to the intimates. “Intaites! We’re done for the day. Get out.”

After that they both headed to their shared apartment. They’d been sharing a living space since a little after they finished initiation. Once inside Eric shut the door behind them for privacy.

“So did you and Four figure out what's going on?” he asked and Y/n could see some concern in his eyes.

y/n nodded and licked her lips. “Yeah, about that.”

“What?” He asked gruffly.

Y/n went over and sat on their couch, Eric followed suit. “My nightmares have been odd. Like you knew and we found a few things out.” Y/n took a deep breath before continuing, looking him in the eyes. “I have less fears now. That’s why I keep reliving some of them. My nightmares seem to be the fears I still have.”

“How's this happening? Is it a Divergent thing?” Eric didn’t know much about Divergent. No one really did know anything about Divergents since they were killed on spot after being found out.

“No it’s not a Divergent thing.” She laughed lightly. Y/n leaned in and pulled him into a kiss. When she pulled away she told him. “Its a you thing.”

“Me?” Eric raised his brows in disbelief.

“Yup. You.” Y/n nodded in confirmation of his question.

“Can you explain?” he asked, still very confused. How is he the cause?

“Trus has this theory and Four and I agree with it.” Y/n scooted closer, grabbing his hands in hers. Smiling shyly up at him. “We think I’m having less face because you make me feel safe.”

“That's the goal.” Eric smirked proudly. That was the goal, to protect her. Make her feel safe. And he was relieved that nothing serious was wrong with her. “So many fears have you lost exactly?”

Y/n laughed in amusement towards his reaction. “Cocky much?”

Eric pulled her by the hips to straddle his lap. “Hey, if I’m responsible…”

He two was amused, but this was because of different reasons.

“Thank you.” Y/n thanked her tattooed brute. With the look of confusion back in his eyes, she continued. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Not exactly. You couldn’t. But thanks anyway and for protecting me and making me feel safe in general.”

Eric placed a hand on the back of her head and stared directly in her eyes. “You're mine. No one will harm you on my watch.”

Y/n smiled brightly at his declaration. “Don’t tell my mom.”

Eric scoffed. “I don’t tell your mom shit.”

“That's one of the reasons I love you.” Y/n smirked, leaning her forehead against his.

Eric grabbed her, pulling her closer, holding her tighter in his grip as he kissed the column of her neck. “What are the other reasons?”

Y/n let out a moan as he continued to kiss and suck on her neck. “Well if we head over to the bedroom I could-”

“Done” Eric said, effictley cutting her off. He stood up and carried her to their bedroom. All the while Y/n laughed at his actions and looked forward to the night's activities.

Taglist: @padawancat97

[writeforfandoms]

Howlin’ For You - epilogue

Find the CoD masterlist

Well, I know people wanted more of these two. And after a conversation with a shameless enabler, this is what I came up with! I hope you all enjoy.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of marriage/mating, talk of children, shifter social norms, shifter behavior

Word count: 2k

You shifted your weight in the seat yet again. “You’re sure they won’t mind?” you asked quietly, unable to keep the anxiety at bay.

“Love, they’re right thrilled to meet ye,” Soap murmured, squeezing the hand held captive between both of his. He was a long line of warmth against your side in the chilly train, pressed up against you from knee to shoulder. 

You blew out a breath, noisy but short, venting a bit of your nerves. “Right. Okay.” 

He nuzzled your cheek softly, squeezing your hand again. “Ye’ll have fun,” he murmured, a soft promise in his tone. “And if ye donnae, we’ll go. Aye?”

“Right.” You did relax a little at the reminder. 

“Never done a meet the family?” The words were gently teasing, even as he tried to tug you closer. You swatted his thigh, because you’d already refused to sit in his lap. Twice. This trip. 

“Never.” You bit your lip, wrinkling your nose. “Especially not with, y’know, the rest of the stuff.”

“Stuff.” Soap huffed a little laugh. “Funny way of puttin’ it, love.” 

“Oh hush.” You warmed, tucking your head down against his shoulder. 

“They’re all excited,” he murmured. “Might get a few rude sniffs, though.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed quietly, relaxing into him. Which, of course, was his goal all along. 

“Promise, love,” he murmured. “Won’t be a problem.” 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You’d just have to trust him for now. 

You two got off the train, Soap herding you through the station easily and out to the pickup area. A woman waved at the two of you, dark hair shining in the sunlight, an easy smile on her face. 

“‘Bout time,” she called as Soap herded you to her car, taking your bag to put in the back. “How was the trip?”

“Uneventful,” Soap said with a shrug.

"You must be his mate." She smiled at you. "I'm Layla." 

You gave her your name, a little shy. 

"Ah ken, Johnny willnae shuddup 'bout ye." She flashed a bright grin at you. 

You warmed and quickly got into the car. Soap settled next to you, ignoring Layla's snickering. 

"She's one o' my big sisters," Soap told you. "Got two more."

"Big family," you murmured. 

"Aye." He smiled at you. "Jeannie already has two bairns o' her own." 

You nodded, leaning a little into his side, unable to entirely quell your anxiety. Soap hummed softly, twining his fingers with yours. 

"Mum has everyone for dinner tonight," Layla said as she drove. 

"How many people is everyone?" You were almost afraid to ask. 

"No more'n twelve. Ach, no, fourteen, forgot the two littles." 

"Oh." You blinked. That… was a lot of people. 

"Ye'll be fine," Soap whispered to you. "Promised, aye?"

"Right." You breathed in deep, trying to relax. 

Layla chattered the rest of the drive, and you understood most of it. But she used some words you didn't know. Not that you said anything - you got the gist of it. Mostly, she and Soap caught up. 

Which worked great for you. 

Layla parked the cat outside a big house, and you swallowed. 

"C'mon, love." Soap patted your hand before he got out. 

One last deep breath and you got out too. The house was lovely, the grounds green and lush. 

And then there were four pups crowding around you, yipping and sniffing and (in one case) nipping. You squeaked, a little overwhelmed. 

"Behave!" Layla called, heading up to the house. The one that nipped you looked apologetic. 

"Uh, that's okay?" You patted the top of that one's head. 

All four pups crowded you again, little tails going a mile a minute. They all had that same wolf-husky look that you were used to from Soap, though they varied in color. Two were red and white, much like Soap, while one was mostly gray and the last was black and white. 

And all of them still had floofy puppy fur. 

"I… oh my god you're all cute," you muttered, looking down at the pups. "Is it okay if I pet you?" 

One of the pups immediately flopped over on his back for belly rubs. Which you obliged. Except you only had two hands and there were four pups. It took all of a minute for them to gang up on you and knock you flat on your back on the grass. 

A sharp whistle pierced the air, and the pups all scrambled off you. You sat up, pretty sure you looked disheveled now. 

"Ah, Mum wants t' see ye." Soap appeared to offer you a hand up, hauling you to your feet easily. His strength didn't surprise you anymore. 

He walked you up to the house and around back to a set of chairs and a table. His mum was very clearly his mum, her hair salted but still thick and dark, the same glint of humor in her eyes that you saw in Soap's. 

"Be welcome in our home," she said, soft and melodious. 

"Thank you." You sat when she waved to the chair across from her. 

"So, ye caught Johnny's eye." She gave you a quick once-over. 

"Seems that way." You smiled a little, nervous. 

"Good. He's a handful, but he's a good man." Her smile was soft and proud. 

"He is," you agreed. "Even though he did spring the whole shifter thing on me." 

His mum laughed. "Aye, he told us." 

"I suppose there was no good way to do it," you admitted. "And at least Captain Price was  pretty nice about the whole thing." 

"Was he? Good. Ah'd hate t' haveta have 'nother talk with him." 

"Another?" Your eyebrows shot up. 

"Oh aye." Her smile twinkled with mischievous glee.

"Tell me more?" You leaned forward, intrigued. 

"Johnny, be a dear an' go help yer da." 

Soap huffed but pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. And left you alone with his mum. 

Who proceeded to tell you all about the time she yelled at Captain John Price and then informed him that the 141 had all been unofficially adopted. You kind of wished you'd been able to see that. 

At some point you were ushered inside and seated between Soap's mum and Soap. All three of his sisters were there, along with the five children between them - the four pups you'd sort of met, and one baby. His da was a quiet man that was quick to smile. 

It was the best kind of overwhelming, honestly. 

Until his sister Jeannie asked, "So when are ye having yer first?" 

You coughed as your drink attempted to go down the wrong way. Soap thumped your back, shooting his sister a look. 

"We, um, haven't talked about it," you said, gaze flitting between the lot of them. 

"Tha's a surprise." Maggie, the third sister, had both eyebrows raised as she looked between you two. 

"Maggie," Soap warned, eyes narrowed. 

"Just askin'," Maggie said, still looking between you and Soap. 

"No need ta growl," Jeannie added. 

You blinked and Soap actually did growl. And that was all it took for chaos to descend, the entire table weighing in with their opinion. It quickly became completely unintelligible, accents getting thicker and more completely unrecognizable words getting thrown in.

You quickly gave up on trying to translate anything and just sat there, shoulders a little hunched, watching it all with wide eyes. 

His da caught your eye and jerked his head, standing quietly. You followed suit. Nobody even batted an eye, all caught in the argument. 

Outside was much quieter, and his da sat in one of the chairs and patted another for you. 

"Are ye happy? With my boy?" 

"I am." You smiled, a little abashed. "I never expected any of this, and it was definitely a shock at first. But I'm happy." 

"That's all that matters." He smiled at you, warm and gentle. "Dinnae fuss 'bout the rest." 

"Okay." You relaxed. 

There was a shout from inside and then a chorus of puppy barks. His da sighed. 

"Is it always like this?" You couldn't help but ask, grinning. 

"Och aye. Mated to a hellion, I am." But he looked pleased with himself.

You couldn't help but laugh, just a little. It was actually pretty peaceful out here with just the two of you. 

Except then he stood, motioning you to wait. You blinked and watched him walk off to the side. But when he started to strip, you immediately looked away. You knew it wasn't a big deal, not to them, but you couldn't get over the ingrained feeling that you needed to look away. 

A big wolf padded over to you, darker brown with a tan underside. He was even bigger than Soap. He sat in front of you and rested his chin on your knee. 

"More comfortable that way?" You asked, curious. He huffed softly. "Can I…?" You held out one hand, waiting for him to tip his head in permission. Then you stroked the top of his head softly. "You really don't mind I'm not like you?" 

He looked up at you and very deliberately shook his head. You smiled. 

"Thank you." You relaxed into your chair, absently stroking the top of his head, listening to the furor inside slowly calm. 

"Love?" Soap poked his head out the door and huffed. "There ye are." 

"Mmhm." You smiled at him. "Nice and quiet out here. A bit chilly." 

That was all it took to have Soap draping himself over the back of your chair to be your personal space heater. His da huffed with doggie laughter. 

"Alright, love?" Soap nuzzled the crook of your neck. 

"Mmhm." You tipped your head a bit. "Long as nobody else asks about stuff we haven't discussed yet." 

The sudden, absolute silence from behind you was damning. You sighed. 

"Okay. What else came up?"

"Dinnae matter." Soap tightened his grip on you. 

"Hey." You poked his arm. "C'mon. Tell me so I'm prepared." 

Soap sighed. "They're wonderin' when we're gettin' mated. Properly." 

"Hm." You paused for a moment until his da budged your hand, then continued stroking his fur. "Can we put them off until we've talked about it?"

His da chuffed at you, soft but encouraging. Behind you, Soap chuckled. 

"That's a yes," he translated. "He likes ye."

"What can I say? I'm charming." You tipped your head to grin at him. 

"Ye charmed me," he agreed. 

"I picked you up on the side of the road."

"Charmed me with food."

You laughed, leaning back into him. "Best decision I ever made." 

"Ye are right smart." He kissed your cheek. "Ye ready to go to bed?"

You shrugged a little, careful not to disturb him. "In a few minutes. This is pretty nice." 

Soap hummed softly, nuzzling the crook of your neck again. 

"Full moon is in two nights?"

"Aye. We'll all go." He paused. "Unless ye want–"

"Absolutely not. You're going hunting with your family, sweetheart. I'll read." 

His da chuffed again, tail wagging slowly. Soap made a startled noise, and his da chuffed again. You knew you were missing that conversation, but you didn't feel left out. It was hard to feel anything bad when you were so securely between the two, both of them radiating warmth and comfort. 

"Da says he'll keep ye company, if ye like." 

"That's your choice," you told the wolf, stroking along one velvety ear. "I certainly won't say no, but I don't want to deprive you of the hunt."

His da huffed again and tipped his head into your hand. You didn't need a translation for that. You just smiled. 

Maybe his family wasn't so terrifying after all.

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

💖I Dream of [Thomas &] Alex 💖

I am BEYOND blown away by this stunning art of my forever OTP Thomas and Alex as Jeannie and Major Nelson from I Dream of Jeannie by the always amazing @callmebeem. I've honestly been squealing and giggling like an idiot since I saw it!

I Dream of Jeannie was my first favorite tv show. Jeannie and Tony were my first OTP (I didn't even know what an OTP was at the time, but I loved them with my entire being). I vividly remember watching the show in Kindergarten and First Grade (on Nick at Night and TVland hehe). I was glued to the tv in complete awe of the magic and wonder and possibility that Jeannie brought. Her joy was absolutely infectious. And with all sitcoms, no matter how bad things were in the episode, things always worked out in the end.

When I was in first grade, I experienced my first trauma. And as a result, I suffered my first bout of depression following that. Jeannie was the only thing that could even make me hint at a smile for a long time. I know that looking back at the show, it has a lot of flaws and is not something that could ever air today, but I didn't see any of that. I saw hope and I saw joy and that is what I needed.

I've carried them with me my whole life. I binged the series again over the summer so it felt like the perfect time to commission this art for Thomas and Alex at Halloween.

While I know they have a lot of differences, I love that Thomas and Alex have a little bit of Tony and Jeannie in them. Thomas and Tony both put their career first. It was all that really mattered to them. Until one day, fate brought a little ray of sunshine with just a touch of mischief into their lives to turn everything upside down. And only when they risk losing their ladies do they realize how much more they matter than their career.

Jeannie and Tony saved me when I was younger. Alex and Thomas saved me several years ago, when I didn't think I could go on another day. I found them, and they gave me hope. I can't promise I would be here if it weren't for them, so I am so eternally grateful for finding them and later this fandom.

If you made it this far, thank you. I love you and I appreciate you!

Just a note about the art/Alex's Hair

I know Jeannie has blonde hair (and her "evil" sister has brown). I had considered Alex wearing a wig, but, before Barbra Eden was cast as Jeannie, the studio wanted Jeannie to be a brunette to stand out from Samantha (Bewitched), so I felt it was okay for Alex to keep her hair.

[All Thomas Hunt x Alex Masterlists] [Halex Commission tag]

[spurious]

I mean

@audioletter ALSO made this perfect moodboard so. Let’s go.

Simple math, the truth cannot be fractioned

Rodney has always known that some things are simple, and some things are not. Simple doesn't always mean easy, but it does mean that there's a logic, a set of rules, a schematic he can hang on to if he starts to lose his way.

Physics is simple, playing the piano is simple, caring for a cat is simple, rewiring circuits is simple. Other people do not seem to think these things are simple, but Rodney knows this; knows that they are, if you can see.

Then there are the things that are not simple, the things that other people seem to grow angrier and angrier about as it becomes more and more apparent how not simple these things are for Rodney.

Human bodies, for example, are not simple, no matter how closely he tries to study, tracing anatomical diagrams like the drawings of wiring he's seen in the engineer's notebooks he saves his allowance to buy at Radio Shack. Rodney tries to understand how it all works together, but it's so messy, so filled with points of failure, that he can't, can't understand it and can't understand why no one else seems to be as horrified as he is to be trapped in an uncontrollable mass of meat and water and electrical impulses firing-misfiring, he knows, when he watches Jeannie having her first seizure, like something out of a horror movie.

Even more confusing and arcane are the unwritten, unseen rules, lines, connections between and around each person Rodney meets. He tries, at first: hopes that sharing his interests will bring connection, but in response he gets scorn, gets labels inked onto him over and over until they become true, become real, become a cloak to wrap around himself in protection: know-it-all, pompous, rude.

Rodney clings to simplicity, clings to the black and white that he can understand, knowing and accepting that maybe it's narrowed his world a little, but it's better than the alternative. He's certain of this, certain of the simplicity of his life until he steps through the stargate for the first time and life fractals out around him: simply un-simple, more than he ever expected to find, right in front of him the moment he lifts his head.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Yandere Jean and Scott X Men Evolution and Jean's little sibling who can control blood (even if it's inside of someone else)

Aaaawwwww! Those two are so cute! And you bet those two are overprotective. Let's try this out:

It seemed the mutant gene was part of her family. Jean knew this because her little sibling was here, dropped off by their parents, and grinning up at her.

"Hey, Jeannie-Bean. How've you been?" they ask, pulling their suitcase a little closer to their legs. Their skin seems to be a bit pale and ashen, as though they had anemia or had lost some blood.

"I could ask the same about you. What happened, Reader?" She's worried, especially since her parents didn't say what your mutation was or what they think might have brought it to the surface.

"I'm fine... I, uh... Had a small accident. But I'm okay! I can, just... kinda control blood, is all," you mumble. And your older sister stares at you... Then is looking you over, calling for someone inside the large mansion.

"SCOTT! Get out here! I need someone to help make sure they aren't hurt anywhere!"

A voice answers her, and suddenly the tallest person you've ever seen steps out, and is standing next to Jean, looking down at you, his eyes obscured by red glasses. "Oh... Um... hi?"

"Hi."

"Scott! Help me make sure they're okay!"

"Jean, I'm fine! I can control blood! Anything that was there is barely scabbed over, if not just a scar by now!" you yelp, pulling yourself back a bit. You look up at the tall teen, and at her tall friend. "So... you're Scott."

"Um... yes?"

"Jean talks about you a lot. You're a good guy. Keep being good to her, or else I'll slow your blood pressure," you say, then walk into the large building. "How big is this place?!"

"I... that's your sibling?"

"Yes! They're pretty cute, aren't they?"

"Yes... Did... did they say how their power showed up?"

"No," Jean replies. She's worried about that, too, but, her sibling isn't going to say what happened if they think it will upset her.

"We can find out later. Okay, let's help them get settled," Scott decides, and then the two are going after Reader, hoping to show them everything they can about the Institute.

Scott finds that he likes Jean's sibling. A LOT.

They're funny, they care about others, and whenever someone gets hurt, they help control the blood flow so there is minimal bruising and damage. They're a nice kid. That being said-

They wanted to tell him something.

"I, um... Scott. You and Jean are friends, right?"

"Yeah... What's up? Is something wrong?" he asks carefully.

"No... Yes... I... I wanted to tell you how i... kickstarted my powers..."

And that explains why they're so nervous.

"Why not tell Jean? She's your sibling, she'd help you through it," he offers, trying to comfort them with that.

"Yeah. That's the point. She worries, Scott. She worries so much, and I just- I can't keep adding to that worry. She's got so much going on, and I just- I can't bring her down," they answer quietly. A few tears start to leak from their eyes, and they sniffle quietly.

"I- I had an accident. A really, really bad accident Scott. There were bullies, an-and police, and there was s-so much blood... I- I th-tho-thought I was gonna die, Scott," they cried, then without hesitation start bawling.

Scott does the only thing he can think of and holds them, rocking them back and forth the way Jean would do with him or Kitty or Kurt when they were upset. "That's it, kid, just let it out... You're okay, you'll be okay..." He isn't sure how long they stay like that, him holding Reader while they cry their heart out. And it all makes sense now.

This kid really is special, aren't they?

Jean sees the good, loving nature in them, the way they smile and soldier on, the way they try not to hold grudges, how they do their best to make her and others smile and feel loved-

But they also need all of that, too. Given and given in spades.

Later on, he tells Jean about what her sibling told him, which ends in them holding each other as they try not to cry.

They make a promise to each other. A few, actually.

"If anything happens to me, Scott... I want- I need you to take care of them. Please," she whispers, a tear rolling down her cheek. He wipes it off with a gentle touch, giving her a small kiss.

"I will, Jean. We'll both do it, together. Please, please help me keep them safe. Please let me help you watch out for them," he says, and his answer is a short sob and nod.

They know they're both scared. That for as strong as they are, for as strong as Reader is, that there is only so much they can do. But with what they can do, with what power they have, they will do everything to keep them safe, to keep them loved and cared for. It's a promise, and not one they intend to break.

"I think we can have a movie night with them... They love those," Jean adds after awhile, and the two share a watery grin. They'll do what they can, starting with making some popcorn and getting Reader up to watch some of their favorite movies with them.

[upontherisers]

night has always pushed up day

a/n: i'm still typing away on my WIP but since i was so inactive this week, i thought i'd share a snippet of an AU i've lived with for a few years but haven't posted from before. title from mumford & sons' 'after the storm'. Lady of the Lighthouse — loosely inspired by Bridges of Madison County (the musical) — is set in a small Wisconsin town post-Vietnam and follows lighthouse keeper Lillian Sikes after she saves a man, photojournalist Ronald Spiers, from drowning in Lake Superior.

“I want to tell a story,” Ron says as Lil sets three mugs on the table, the kitchen door creaking shut behind her.

“Everyone has stories,” Georgie replies. “It’s about finding the right ones to tell at the right time to tell them.”

Lil pulls out the empty chair and sits with a sip of her drink, looking back and forth between the debating writers. Half of this is going above her head, but she wanted to make sure Georgie isn’t going to press Ron for national security secrets while he can’t run away.

Ron raises a skeptical eyebrow and Georgie shrugs. “Everyone has a story. Not all of them are interesting, some are unbelievable, and they’re all important. Vee Albert’s as boring as they come but she’s one of the only locals and she knows this place better than anyone. Jeannie Carmichael won’t say a word about her life before she turned nineteen. Frankie Wilson has a husband and a fiance. Joe Liebgott drove across the country ‘til his car broke down right on Main and Madison, and he hasn’t left since.”

“And now you’re sleeping with him,” Ron says over the rising steam of his drink.

Lil stares out the window before Georgie can look at her, her cheeks flushing with shame. She shouldn’t have told Ron about that. It’s speculation — "mere conjecture," as Joey says. Lil, of all people, knows how much it can hurt to have the whole island talking about you behind your back, even when they’re only looking out for you.

“Allegedly,” snarks Georgie. “Joe is a friend.”

Lil keeps her gaze firmly affixed on the choppy green waves crashing ashore outside.

It’s silent for a moment before Ron speaks. “What’s your story? How does a Harvard girl end up here?”

Lil sneaks a glance at Georgie who’s picking at a chip in her mug with a distant stare before catching her eyes with a painful, yearning smile. 

“It’s a sad one.”

“I can do sad,” Ron wheezes, a cough scraping its way out of his throat. She needs to take his temperature again soon. 

Georgie studies Ron for a moment, taking in the rumpled man with care. He still looks like hell but sits straight and easy, his stare intense but with no malice in it. Lil hopes that his appearance conveys what she had struggled to tell her friend, that Ron wasn’t here to exploit them. Georgie’s on the edge about another writer encroaching on her turf, on her stories and her friends, but there’s nothing to worry about. He means well.

Shaking her bangs off her face, Georgie looks into the dim bulb of the pendant light overhead and sighs, full and weighty. “My husband died,” she declares.

It stops Lil’s heart every time she hears it.

“You were married?” Ron leans forward, wincing in the blanket around his shoulders.

“He was a college friend. We met in the English lit department.”

“What was his name?”

“David.”

David. Dear, dear David. The island’s idealist academic and very own philosopher. A bundle of contradictions — volunteered for the Army before he could get drafted yet avoided any work; prone to bouts of passion but slow to action; not a fighter but often found himself in the middle of pedantic arguments. He had no bedside manner, little tact, and was a bookworm to the point of elitism. But with all of that, he was a true friend. He was fascinated with the lighthouse, always poking around when he came over and cheerfully filling in for Lil if she was unable to work. He was curious about the tiny world he’d found and eager to discover all of the differences between his cushioned East Coast upbringing and the tactile, manual life of the island.

He had dreams. He wanted to bring Murray Eagle Island into the back half of the century and he inspired people — or nagged them — into making change. He wrote with fervor and dedication for the few hundreds on their little island instead of heading to New York and getting on the front page of the Times. He met with fellow veterans when they moved into the area and chronicled their stories, as much as they’d tell him. Most of all, he loved his wife. 

He loved his wife. As much as writing drove him, Georgie drove him more. He leaned on her unabashedly, valued her advice and input, promoted her work over his own, and made it obvious to the lady tourists that wandered into the Editor office during the summer that he was proudly married. They were a good match; he mediated when she pushed too far, balanced some of her more ostentatious ideas — she helped him see beyond technical precision and philosophy. He was the only person who could get her to be honest with herself when her stubbornness got in the way of practicality. 

Lil had watched others around the island in those first years — Don and Dot, George and Mattie — couples who seem to have managed to make the island work for them, and compared their lives to the rapidly cooling affection between her and Mario. But no one showed her what marriage, love even, could be quite like the Websters.

“Can I ask what happened?”

Georgie’s shoulders sinking with the burden of the question. “We don’t know. He went out on the lake for some fishing… and never came back.”

Lil remembers the call from Luz like it was yesterday. The radio in the service room crackled to life while she was doing her last weather reading of the night. 

“Heads up, Lil,” Luz said. “Webster’s not back from fishing. Georgie said he went out at three — hasn’t heard from him since. Keep an eye out, please.”

Normally, a late return wouldn’t be cause for concern. People ran into minor spots of trouble all the time. Bill and Joe convinced themselves they would build and sail their own boat with no prior experience and ended up having to be fished out of the lake by Skip and Alex three hours later. Small dinghies and kayaks got overturned and swept into the lake every other week. Most of the local population were strong swimmers after years on the shore. David would be fine.

But, as Lil looked out into a night so black that she couldn’t tell sea from sky, rain bashing against the window and waves roaring into the rocks and jumping up toward the lightning overhead, her stomach flipped. A freak storm at this time of year was unpredictable at best.

She stayed in the watch room, not even risking a run to the kitchen for coffee, until the sun rose and the storm eased to a gray drizzle. There had been no sign of David during the night and the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was only growing deeper, but she wouldn’t let herself say ‘missing’ yet. He would turn up, she was sure of it. David was a smart man; he was a strong swimmer and mariner. He had probably just washed up farther down the coast and would contact them as soon as he found a town.

Lil, Luz, Skip, Alex, Don, and Dot made up the entirety of Murray Eagle’s volunteer Coast Guard, so she and George pulled every string, every bit of curried favor, and every piece of blackmail they could with NOAA and the Merchant Marines. She was out with every patrol everyday, leaving Joey to complete her duties at the lighthouse, and they searched. Ten miles of coast in either direction, so far out into the lake that their boats only had enough fuel for the return journey. The Coast Guard officially withdrew their resources after two weeks and David was added to a Missing Person’s list for Lake Michigan. 

The entire time, Lil watched the light in Georgie’s eyes get dimmer and dimmer as they started to face the reality that David wasn’t coming home again.

Things returned to normal a month later. The local police told them that it was likely they were looking for a body at that point and people had lives to get back to, jobs and obligations that could no longer justifiably be ignored. They’d reached out to every town they could find along the coast, even into Canada. If he turned up, they would be notified.

David’s broken boat washed up against the lighthouse a month and a day after he went missing with no sign of its one-man captain and crew. Lil slept fitfully and dreamt of cries for help above the calamity of a storm.

Later that night, after Georgie left and dinner had come and gone, Ron speaks up while Lil washes dishes in the sink.

“You still feel guilty, don’t you?”

A plate clatters against wet metal, and she turns over her shoulder to look at him. Her mother’s blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he sits at the table, looking swallowed in the fabric despite his size. His lashes cast long, curving shadows against his cheeks and stubble has filled out his face since he came ashore clean shaven, giving him a rugged, sea-fairing look. He’s horribly disheveled, the cut on his brow isn’t healing, and he’s running a fever but he’s alive. Lil can see David sitting where Ron is, battered by a battle against the waves but alive, speaking, telling her all about the lake and the night and what he thinks of the weather, ready to go home to his wife.

Tears bite at the corners of Lil’s eyes and she turns around to scrub furiously at a spotless bowl.

“You were talking about him when you said you don’t let people drown, right?”

“Seems like you already know the answer,” she clips, trying to push down the bubble in her throat.

“Lil,” Ron sighs. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

You don’t know that, she thinks. She’d turned that night over and over in her mind. What if she missed something? What if she blinked in the dark of the watch room and missed a flash of yellow jacket? What if she turned her head and scanned over a hand reaching out of the water? What if it was her fault that David wasn’t back at his house right now, reading with Georgie or debating Chaucer and Fitzgerald?

George’s words from that first morning come back to her, when Ron slept in her bed and they split a smoke on the front steps as she sniffed and shivered with chill. You’re not invincible, Lil.

She couldn’t rationalize it then and she can’t rationalize it now, but she didn’t have a choice. No one understands why she jumped in, no one believes her. I’m alive, she wanted to say. Don’t you get it? I’m alive. I’m alive so that means I have to try. 

Perhaps it’s her loneliness. Perhaps she’s so desperate for someone that she’s willing to die for the chance, for the suggestion that a life she saves means being known, even for a day, even for an hour. Perhaps it’s the ungrateful woman her mother sees in her and the unruly, impractical dreamer her father wants to wash out of her. But she can’t keep sitting in her tower and let the world happen around her; she has to be a part of it despite her every attempt ending all wrong.

Ron won’t let it go. Teeth gritted with effort, he rises and moves toward her and suddenly she feels both cornered and safe, like a lifelong wish is being held out to her. “You would’ve died had you gone out there, you know that, right? You nearly killed us both trying to get me out of the water!”

“But you’re out, aren’t you?” she snaps, whipping around. You’re out and you’re alive. Doesn’t everyone want to be alive?

Ron looks at her with all the pity in the world, not rising to her anger. Lil bursts into tears as he pulls her into him. 

[basilone]

Hi Killy? How about #20 caffeine, dealer's choice for characters. Thank you!

Ooo, thank you for this one! 💙 I'm delighted at it being dealer's choice, as this got me to try my hand at writing my fave of faves: Rosie. I do hope I've got him down right! (Slight, slight spoilers for the most recent ep apply!)

caffeine

The base is somewhat beautiful when the sun’s still low. There’s a slight haze hanging just above the dewy grass, too thin to be a full-on fog but lending this early morning a particular enchantment all the same. Gold streaks flicker through the last vestiges of night. If she squints at the treeline hard enough, its greens will mingle with the twinges of red in the dawn. Like Christmas painted through a misty window.

It’ll be a while before Christmas comes, now, though the mornings aren’t getting any warmer.

Imogene puffs up her cheeks. Blows warm air between her hands, then rubs them together briskly. She’s forgotten her gloves again. Margaret’s not about to loan out her perfectly good set of spare gloves, either, if that glare from earlier is anything to go by. And Jeannie is nice and all, but the knitwork on her gloves is absolutely drenched in perfume. Imogene lets out a sigh. Contemplates the risks associated with running back to her bunk and praying her own gloves will be in the place where she put them last.

Truth is, she hasn’t got the time. Jeannie’s already taken off at a dead run for the bathroom for the second time in an hour, which has got Margaret fuming in a way that’ll at least make sure the sink’s going to be so spotless you could eat out of it. Imogene would be more worried about Jeannie if this wasn’t already the fourth time a girl like her was prone to retching her guts out in the morning and being just fine and dandy in the afternoon.

These girls, like some of the men, barely stay long enough to learn their names.

And then, of course, there are those few who seem to stay a lifetime.

“One for the road, Captain Rosenthal?”

His answering laugh is soft, but his joy somehow never fails to meet his eyes. “If you can spare me a cup, yes. Thank you.”

“It’ll be a little minute, sir, sorry.” Imogene shoots him the closest thing she’s got to an apologetic smile. “I hope you can wait that long to get your latest dose of caffeine. These new coffee makers are a bit slower on the uptake.”

Captain Rosenthal hums a little to himself. “I believe I can find the time for it this morning, Imogene.”

“Glad to hear it, sir. Congratulations on your twenty-fifth, by the way!” She’d meant to say that about five days ago, but the party had turned raucous and strange in equal measure before she’d had the chance. And the men had been pretty tightly knit around him, at least before the mood had taken another tailspin downward. “When are you due to go home? Is it a ways away yet?”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot the way he always seems to do when contemplating something important. His gaze fixes on the horizon. Well past the planes on their hardstands, beyond the line of trees and buildings. Like there’s something in the early morning sky only he can see.

Imogene waits him out the way she always does. There is no hurrying Robert Rosenthal, not when he is pondering something important before his first coffee of the day. He might have something interesting to say once the idea lands and takes root inside him. Last time, he had made a small comment about bird migratory patterns that had somehow evolved into a conversation about penguins at the zoo. The time before that, he had asked her something about hairpins – not a topic for a man, or so Margaret had scoffed after – before he’d leaned forward ever so slightly and told her some of his men might have gotten their hands on a second helping of chocolate through the cunning use of hairpins. (DeBlasio, if she had to name one. It’s always the goddamn Italians getting into trouble on this base.)

“I’m not too certain Florida will agree with me.” His smile is almost remorseful, as if he has contemplated the idea and found himself to be rather like a fish out of water. “I’d miss this weather. Gruesome chill in the air this morning.” He shudders just a little, more to himself than to her. “And I have to say, Imogene, I’d be hard-pressed to find better coffee than this.”

“Now you’re just flattering me, sir,” she laughs, grabbing a pristine white cup for him. “We do what we can, but the stateside coffee just tastes better if you ask me. I dream about it sometimes.”

“The perfect cup of coffee? Bit of milk, two sugars. Little bit of foam on top, perhaps.” There’s a twinkle in his bright eyes as he steps closer, keenly awaiting his morning shot of caffeine. “What is your poison of coffee choice in this world, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Imogene hums to herself. “Bit of milk, bit of caramel, sir.” She almost wishes she had enough time to foam the milk up a little, give it a bit of a whisk before stirring it into his cup. “The sugar’s too cloggy. Caramel syrup works just as well to sweeten it.”

“I take it there is no secret stash of caramel syrup on base here?”

“You”– she gestures with the little spoon –“would be correct, Captain. Perhaps you can sneak me some, once you’re back home?”

The shadow that passes over his face is gone as swiftly as it came, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t see it. Imogene sucks in a rather noisy breath. Feels a chill swoop down and back up her spine in a way that’s got very, very little to do with the morning cold of early March. He glances back at the horizon a moment. Wistful, her mind supplies. Then: yearning.

She’s seen it before. In Major Cleven and Captain Rivers, every time they were kept on the ground too long. In Major Egan, once Major Cleven had vanished and left a hole in the fabric of reality itself. In Stella Lombardi, whose eyes never quite seem to meet the ground anymore, and in Two, who might just survive them all. There’s something in the set of their shoulders. Something in their eyes, once you know where to look.

Imogene looks. Sees. “You’re not going home.”

Blue eyes, brighter than any morning, meet her gaze. “Not just yet.” His confession hangs in the air between them a moment. She fills up the space with a mostly full cup of coffee, milk and sugars already stirred in, and is proud when her hand does not tremble. “We have work to do here, don’t we, Imogene?” His bare hand brushes her own before he lifts the cup in clear gratitude. “Thank you for the coffee, as always.”

She takes a deep breath. Steadies herself on the counter, just out of his keen gaze’s reach. “You’re very welcome, sir. Same time tomorrow, then?”

A laugh startles out of him, bright and beaming and so alive that she wants to cry. “Same time as always, ma’am.”

[mattyriddlesbitch]

hello! I recently got into fanfics again and youre such a talented writer 💗 i was hoping to get theo or/and mattheo w a Hufflepuff reader whose been acting really bratty so they put her in her place 👁👁 i hope its not too much for u n if u dont feel like it thats totally fine too! 🤞

Yes! I didn't specify the house, but I hope this works!

Attitude

Theodore Nott X F!Reader

Warnings: Orgasm denial, unprotect sex, creampie, cussing.

18+ Minors DNI!

You normally were so sweet. Never really had much of an attitude, or at least, if you did, it never lasted long. However, today, you were moody and short with people, especially to your sweet boyfriend Theodore. He was trying to figure out what you needed all day. Getting you food and sweets, trying to give you affection, trying to give you space, trying to make you laugh. None of it was working. He was losing his patience.

It was just before dinner when you decided to say another snarky thing to him while you were sitting with the boys. He snapped and dragged you over to the bathroom. You thought you were gonna get a lecture about talking to him disrespectfully in front of his friends. Instead, he had you bent over the sink, panties around your ankles while he fucked you from behind.

“You need to drop the attitude, cara mia.” He said, watching your face in the mirror. “I’ve been very patient with you today.”

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You moaned, gripping onto the sink.

Wrong choice of words because he pulled out and turned you around, gripping your waist tightly. “Is that how you talk to me?” His voice was low and stern.

“Can you please just fuck me, Theo.” You whined.

“What did I say about the attitude?” He warned, tilting his head down slightly.

“Drop it.” You said, huffing.

“Exactly.” He said, his tone a little softer. “So, how about we try that again?”

You rolled your eyes and before you could say anything, he grabbed your face with one hand.

“Without the attitude.”

You sighed, letting your body relax. “Can you please fuck me, Theo?”

“Much better.” He said with a small smile.

He lifted you up onto the sink and pulled your panties off your ankles as he stepped between your legs. He teased your entrance before thrusting in, making you both moan.

“Give me attitude again and I’ll stop, you understand?” He asked, taking your chin in his fingers to tilt your head to look up at him.

“Yes.” You nodded.

He started thrusting, holding onto your hips tightly. You held onto the sink as you tried staying still from his thrusts, moaning his name.

“You gotta be quiet. People will hear.” He warned.

You nodded, biting down on your lip to try to quiet your moans.

He smiled at your attempt and moved one hand to rub at your clit, causing your moans to get louder as you threw your head back. You brought a hand to your mouth, covering it to muffle the moans.

“Just needed to get fucked to lose that attitude, huh?” He teased, leaning in to kiss your neck.

You were so close, your pussy clenching around him as you cried out into your hand.

Then he stopped, ripping a whine from your throat.

“What?” You asked, moving your hand from your mouth as you tried moving your hips to get some of that feeling back.

“You didn’t think I’d let you cum that easily with that attitude?” He said with a smile as he leaned back to look at you.

You groaned, leaning your head back. “Please, Theo. I was so close.”

“Next time, I won’t be so nice, principessa.” He said before started to thrust again, rubbing at your clit.

You had to cover your mouth again, moaning loudly, eyes rolling back. Your orgasm was building up again almost as fast as it had left. You came around him with a cry of his name into your hand, trembling as he came too, spilling his cum into you. He pulled out and pulled your 

panties back up onto you.

“Gotta keep that in. Think of that every time you wanna act up again, hm?” He smiled before helping you off the sink.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[sga-owns-my-soul]

hey I really like your fics and it's my birthday today! do you think you could write a little snippet where Rodney takes John to the symposium in brain storm instead and they're tag team bitchy 🥺🥺🥺 pretty pretty please 🥺🥺🥺

happy birthday!!!!! i hope you had an absolutely wonderful day and i apologize that this took so long! i hope you enjoy 🥰💜

"Rodney McKay?"

John immediately felt giddy when he recognized the voice as The Bill Nye. John turned in excitement to see him and Neil DeGrasse Tyson approaching, but his excitement dropped as soon as he saw the look on Rodney's face.

"We had it on good authority that you were... dead," Nye continued, and John suddenly understood why Rodney looked so bothered.

"Nope, he's actually very good at keeping himself and others alive. Been doing it for a few years now, even. Hi, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard," John said, and if he maybe looked a little bit scarier than he usually did when he introduced himself, well, he could hardly be blamed for that.

"Lt. Colonel? How do you know Rodney?" Tyson asked, looking surprised, and maybe a bit nervous, and that certainly made John feel a little smug.

"We work together," Rodney said quickly, glancing at John.

"You work with the U.S. military?" Nye questioned.

"Yeah it's uhh, it's-"

"Confidential. Pretty cool though," John answered in his casual drawl, smirking at Nye and Tyson. They exchanged a look.

"Right... Uhh, well... It was good to see you, McKay. And uhh, nice to meet you?" Tyson said, backing up a few steps before turning and pulling Nye back to whoever they were previously talking to.

"Thanks. That was... actually kind of bearable," Rodney said with a sigh of relief. John smiled at him.

"Come on, let's go get our seats early," John said, throwing an arm protectively around Rodney's shoulder as they made their way into the auditorium.

--

"That's- that's my bridge!" Rodney whispered harshly, and John clenched his teeth.

"I thought it looked familiar. It's the one you and Jeannie built, isn't it? John asked quietly. Rodney nodded as that Tunney guy continued spouting off how he was going to save the planet- and John almost scoffed, because Rodney had saved the planet- multiple times- and even he didn't feel the need to brag to everyone about it.

At least not this arrogantly.

"Okay, I've heard enough," John said, sliding out of his seat. Rodney followed on instinct.

"Where are we going?" Rodney whispered as they made their way through the seats. John turned back to answer when he was interrupted.

"Doctor McKay, leaving so soon?" Tunney called, and suddenly every face in the auditorium turned to John and Rodney. John's hand instinctively twitched for the gun he didn't have.

"Yeah, sorry, that's my fault. I forgot about some... important business we need to urgently take care of," John called back, his casual drawl masking the anger vibrating through him.

"Well, I'm sure it can wait until the presentation is over," Tunney shot back, a smug grin on his face. "I'm sure McKay would be fascinated by my discovery."

John clenched his fists as he glanced at Rodney, who was looking equal parts furious and embarrassed. He opened his mouth, and John shot him a look.

"Well, considering this work is shockingly similar to work he did with me and the U.S. military two years ago, I don't think it'll be that exciting to him. Thanks for the hospitality, but we need to go," John said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Come on Rodney, we're leaving."

"You... you stood up for me," Rodney said when they got back into the lobby, and John was so busy looking for a phone it took him a second to process what Rodney said.

"Of course I stood up for you, that asshole was stealing your work. And he clearly isn't going to be able to prevent the issues we had last time with Rod, and I really don't need another alternate version of us showing up here of all places. We need to get to a phone so we can call the SGC, get this guy shut down." John was moving through the lobby again, looking for a landline, when he noticed Rodney was still just standing there. "What?"

"You didn't even hesitate. You just... thank you," Rodney said, and John was so taken back by the genuine sincerity he almost forgot about the matter at hand.

"Tell you what, if you help me find a phone so I can call Landry, you can make the announcement to everyone that Tunney is getting arrested for stealing top secret work that you came up with, okay? But we really need to call Landry before that machine gets started up."

Rodney beamed.

"I think I love you," Rodney said, like it was the most casual thing in the world, before pointing and leading John down the hallway to what must have been office space. Johns heart fluttered in response.

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Vampire - Jean x Napoleon x Sebastian x Reader x Arthur

Relationship Chart

Wrods: 1174

Summary: The pranks problem sorted out, you and Napoleon join your boyfriends for the start of his actual birthday celebration

The ending of Napoleon's Pranks and Gifts birthday Celebration Series.

Also written for July's 2023 Polyam Shipping Day Prompt: Food from @polyamships

Previous Part / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

“Well, that was a good meal, ma chérie.” Napoleon kissed you as you left his room, laughing as you blushed. “Thank you.”

He stroked the spot where he had bitten you. To think he’d been quite apprehensive for a long time after the first time he bit you, afraid of the predatory monster he could become after he started.

But you had always been reassuring. You didn’t believe the monster existed.

And, it was a little hard to admit, but that first night you let Arthur join you had helped his confidence too. Having other vampire partners who weren’t afraid of their instincts helped.

And thankfully, all of you did. Now Napoleon found such an intimacy in the act. The trust you showed by letting him feed off your life essence. Holding you close as he did so. Being able to get sustenance from the person he loved, even if for only a moment. And the sweet pleasure it was for both of you.

“Does that mean you don’t need the food we made?”

“You know I wouldn’t waste your hard work, mon coeur. Or miss sharing food with the people I love. Besides, I see nothing I would rather do on my birthday.”

Napoleon offered you a hand, and you took it with a smile. He pulled you closer.

“No more tricks?”

“Don’t worry. That was just my way of surprising you.”

He kissed the back of your hand.

“Good. Just hope you don’t try that next year again.”

Both of you laughed as you left for the garden.

The boys had set up a small table there, and it was full of food. Each of them had a little of their favorites, but they also had a few types of crepes, as well as a beautifully decorated cake. They had really gone all out for breakfast.

Well, probably you and Akihiko. He had no idea what kind of skills Arthur had, but Jean was technically banned from the kitchen.

“Took you long enough.” Arthur said with a grin as soon as the two of you walked closer.

“Jealous you weren’t invited?” You teased back.

“At another time I would, luv. But I am aware me and old ‘Leon here are not that close. Although I would love to rectify this whenever you’re ready.”

Napoleon shook his head. He never knew when Arthur was actually flirting with him or just teasing.

“I still don’t understand why you are here if the two of you are not together.” Jean looked at Napoleon as if asking for an answer.

“I guess we are close enough.”

Their relationship might be undefined, but they had one.

Jean nodded, but not without casting a disapproving glance to Arthur, obviously having more to complain about, but choosing to keep quiet out of respect for Napoleon.

It didn’t pass unnoticed by Arthur.

“No need to be jealous either, Jeannie. You’re always welcome to join us.” Arthur winked at him. “It’s not like you’re a stranger to this kind of pleasure between four people, are you? Or even sharing two lovers, you and Sebas didn’t…”

“Master Arthur,” Akihiko interrupted him, surprisingly calm for the suspicious moment he chose for it, “I would refrain from aggravating Monsieur Jean any further.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Arthur’s answer was surprising. “I would rather drink my coffee in peace.”

Napoleon couldn’t help but laugh at the way Arthur frowned and pulled his chair a little further away from Jean. Probably he was still a little traumatized from that one time Jean swapped his coffee.

By his side, you laughed too, and Napoleon caught the look you exchanged with Akihiko before that.

The two of you had your secret. Arthur and Jean might never get along. But you were his chaotic family. It was still surprising he had all of you, but it was a pleasant surprise. especially sharing a meal with these people that had become so dear to him.

“You made quite a lot of food, even for five people.” He commented, serving himself of quite a few crepes.

Napoleon could tell which ones you made, and which ones were Akihiko, but there were a few he had no idea. He took a bite of one and it had a little extra sugar, but it was still good.

“Jean helped make these.” You told him, giving Jean a fond smile. “We had a few incidents, but also excellent results.”

“That is because you are a wonderful teacher.” Jean smiled at you, before turning to Napoleon. “I am glad I was allowed to help make something that pleased you. I know I am not good with this kind of work, but I have been learning enough the past few days.”

“As long as everything is kept functional and the two of you take responsibility for cleaning the kitchen, I do not mind your willingness to learn.” Akihiko surprisingly conceded.

“You talk as if I’m trying to teach a child.” You complained.

“Speaking of child, luv…” Arthur grinned at you, making you blush and make a sign for him to stay quiet.

“What is happening?” Napoleon turned to you.

You smiled and stood up, lighting the candles in the cake.

“Make your wish, blow out the candles, then pull the sword.” You kissed his cheek.

Napoleon could guess what was coming, but his heart still thumped in his ears as he followed the instructions and cleaned the blade to find it inscribed with “Happy Birthday Papa!”.

Napoleon pulled you onto his lap, kissing you, only somewhat aware of the others’ words of congratulations.

“How long have you known?”

“The day before the first time I woke you up. I take you are happy?”

“You know the answer to that, Nunuche.” He kissed you again. “Is it why you have been so bratty these days?”

“That was why I was awake at the time, but had nothing to do with the joke. Although I guess it’s good training.”

“I swear I will be prepared. You won’t need to continue that.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You laughed, resting your forehead against his.

“I love you.” He whispered. The two of you smiled and finally pulled away, turning back to your boyfriends.

“Oh, don’t mind us. It is your moment and you should enjoy it.” Arthur spoke first.

“No. This moment belongs to all of us, as a family. You have been very supportive on our journey to get here. I love all of you.”

It was his biological child, - all of you had agreed to let him try first, - but it was their child, as much as the others were willing for it to be.

“I guess we have one more reason to celebrate.” Akihiko stood up and started to cut the cake.

A nice breakfast with his family was indeed the best way to celebrate. Next year there would be a new addition to their midst, and he couldn’t wait to see how the years to come would change with each new meal you would have together.

Tag List:

@tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles

@bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground

@queengiuliettafirstlady, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[mapimariposa]

Descansos 

"If you've ever traveled in Old Mexico, New Mexico, southern Colorado, Arizona, or parts of the South, you've seen little white crosses by the roadway. These are descansos, resting places. You'll also find them on the edges of cliffs along particularly scenic but dangerous roads in Greece, Italy, and other Mediterranean countries. Sometimes crosses are clustered in twos or threes or fives. People's names are inscribed upon them - Jesús Mendéz, Arturo Buenofuentes, Jeannie Abeyta. Sometimes the names are spelled out in nails, sometimes they are painted on the wood or carved into it. 

Often they are profusely decorated with artificial or real flowers or they glisten with chopped-up new straw glued to wood slats, making them shine like gold in the sun. Sometimes the descanso is just two sticks or two pieces of pipe tied across one another with twine and stuck in the ground. In the rockiest passes, the cross is just painted onto a large rock at the roadside. 

Descansos are symbols that mark a death. Right there, right on that spot, someone's journey in life halted unexpectedly. There has been a car accident, or someone was walking along the road and died of heat exhaustion, or a fight took place there. Something happened there that altered that person's life and the lives of other persons forever. 

Women have died a thousand deaths before they are twenty years old. They've gone in this direction or that, and have been cut off. They have hopes and dreams that have been cut off also. Anyone who says otherwise is still asleep. All that is grist for the mill of descansos.

While all these things deepen individuation, differentiation, growing up and growing out, blossoming, becoming awake and aware and conscious, they are also profound tragedies and have to be grieved as such. 

To make descansos means taking a look at your life and marking where the small deaths, muertes chiquitas, and the big deaths, las muertes grandotas, have taken place.

Descansos mark the death sites, the dark times, but they are also love notes to your suffering. They are transformative. There is a lot to be said for pinning things to the earth so they don't follow us around. There is a lot to be said for laying them to rest." 

-Clarissa Pinkola Estés 

[holylulusworld]

Jeannie in a bottle (2)

Summary: You’re out of the bottle. What now?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x genie!Reader

Warnings: magic, mentions of entrapment, genie!reader

Jeannie in a bottle masterlist

<< Part 1

“Hmm…you look much better in that outfit,” Dean purrs as you get comfortable in the backseat. He watches you in the rear-view mirror, smiling to himself. “Pink suits you.”

“I hate pink,” you grumble. “I only did it to appease you. It’s kinda part of the deal, ya know. I didn’t want to change clothing. That fucker turned me into an obedient bitch.”

“Why didn’t you obey his orders?” Sam asks. He looks at you in the backseat, wondering which spell the bastard used to entrap you. The hunter hopes he can help you.

“Well, that creep used a spell to turn me into his dream girl. A genie like the one in the show. But there was a catch,” you chuckle. “Fucker forgot to read the fine print.”

“Let me guess. Everyone but him can rub the bottle,” Dean asks. “Right? You’ve been waiting for me to free you, sweetheart?”

You smirk at Dean. “The spell he used turned me into a genie and banned me into the bottle, but he’s the only one who cannot free me. If he tries, the bottle hurts him. Or rather the spell.”

“Awesome,” the hunter chuckles. “I’m her hero, Sammy. And I got three wishes. Hmm…I need to think about all the things I want.”

“Dean, remember. We don’t get good things just like that,” Sam warns. Spells, curses, and all the things they encountered over the years always have a catch.

“He’s not wrong, Dean,” you start coughing. You feel a little light-headed and, your body starts to dissipate again. “No! I didn’t say a thing…please!”

“Sweetheart? Genie!” Dean jumps out of the car to reach the backseat. He opens the door and grabs your fading hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t break the rules,” you whisper as your body turns back into pink smoke. “I’m sorry…you need to find out on your own…”

“Nooo! Sammy help me!” the hunter panics. He tries to grasp for you, but you are already gone. “She’s back inside the bottle.”

Dean looks at the golden Arabian-styled genie bottle. He carefully picks it up to look it all over.

“I think she wanted to tell you to not use your wishes. Something is fishy about all of this, Dean. Let’s go back to the bunker. I can call Rowena, and maybe…” Sam sighs deeply, “Crowley can help us too.”

“Crowley? Why?”

“First, the guy at the store didn’t look like he was using magic all the time. I think he made a deal to get her into the bottle.”

“A bad deal,” Dean grins. “He cannot free her. You think he made a deal with Crowley or one of his minions?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-Sammy…can you drive? I’ll stay in the backseat and make sure the bottle doesn’t get damaged. Drive carefully.”

“Shut up, you sonofabitch!” Dean growls at the shop owner he has restrained to a chair in the dungeon as the man tries to break out of the handcuffs. “You won’t get out of these. So, stop!”

“She’s mine! You can’t have her. You won’t have her!”

“Listen, you sick creep. She won’t be yours. You entrapped her inside a fucking bottle. Do you honestly believe she will fall in love with you after you stole ten years from her?”

“I don’t want her to love me,” the shop owner grins. “It’s enough to know that she’s mine. I own her. No one will ever free her.”

“We will see.”

“Rub it, rub it. Free her,” Dean singsongs as he rubs the bottle again. “Come out, sweetheart. We go that bastard in the dungeon.”

“Dean—” Pink smoke fills Dean’s room as you finally are free to leave the bottle again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says as you stretch your body. “Uh-I didn’t know if genies eat. I made you a bacon burger and got a beer or juice for you.”

“I don’t know either,” you answer honestly. “It’s been ages since I got out of the bottle. I spent my days hammering against the walls of the bottle. It felt like I’m trapped in a nightmare.”

“Damn, that’s awful,” he drops his eyes and shakes his head. Dean realizes having a genie is not like in the show. “But don’t worry. We are on it. Sammy called two…” He wrinkles his nose, “Let’s call them allies. We will find out what that bastard did and free you.”

“Even if you can free me, Dean,” you sniffle, “I lost ten years of my life. I was trapped in a nightmare and couldn’t get out. There is no life I can come back to. Everyone moved on.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean softly says. “Especially for the stupid things I said about the wishes and crap. I had this fantasy about Jeannie from the show, and then you appeared out of nowhere. A real-life genie all for myself. I didn’t know you were entrapped and now I feel like the most awful guy ever.”

“It’s fine,” you sit on Dean’s bed and look around his room. It’s the first time you are in a normal room after years of entrapment. “I’m glad it was you who freed me. Not some creep.”

“Or someone wanting to abuse your powers to take over the world or shit.”

“That’s against the rules! No making someone fall in love with you. No taking over the world. No killing people. No committing crimes. No asking for superpowers.”

“Whoa, a lot of rules,” Dean flashes you a smile. “I guess you won't make me a superhero then.”

“You are already a hero. Aren’t you?” you pat his thigh. “Even I heard of the infamous Winchesters. And, I believe in you. If anyone can help me, it’s you and your brother…”

>> Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[triggerthreestrikes]

Fanfic excerpt/trailer/bite sized bit from/for my fanfic Fallout: A tale of two couriers. I talk more about it in the linked post. TW for graphic depictions of a headshot, and for mentions of enslavement.

Summary. Flynn Investigates Carla’s “disappearance.”

Flynn walked into the Dino-Dee-Light Lobby immediately after Manny’s story. Something wasn’t right. Was Carla really stuck up and prissy? Maybe she might’ve had opinions about Novac’s cuisine and accommodations, but the resentment in Manny’s voice only came when he glanced up at Boone’s room. There was more to Manny and Boone’s relationship. At least on Manny’s side. What exactly the nature of that was he didn’t know, but it wasn’t Carla’s personality that rubbed Manny the wrong way. Especially comparing Ranger Andy’s story. And..there was the story Noonan told. Obviously, Mole men was a side effect of No bark being…himself. But one staying in the lobby? That had merit.

“Oh! If it isn’t one of our two couriers! How can Jeanie May help you dear?” The older lady behind the counter greeted. “Well hey there! Naomi and I are finding everything fine, just had a few itchin’ curiosities I had to scratch about the town.” Jeanie gave a big smile, clearly pleased he was paying the town compliment. “Well I’d be happy to scratch those itches for you dear! What do you wanna know?” “Well, first, I noticed that there’s an open bungalow, that for rent?” Jeanie’s smile remained. “Oh, I’m sorry dear, but those bungalows are more for permanent residents. I’m afraid I can’t just rent it out.” Flynn clicked his tongue and shook his head “shame. Ah well, if we ever get tired of this courier thing, I’ll keep Novac well in mind. It’s a cozy little place.” Jeannie smiled in response, clearly, the way to her good side was paying the town respect. I wonder… Flynn thought to himself. “Well, I’ve got to head out for the night, don’t stay up too late now dearie!” Flynn’s easy smile remained even as the innkeeper left the room, right up until the door closed behind her. Taking a Bobby pin and screwdriver from his courier’s bag, he approached the front desk, and located a safe nestled in the floor.

It wasn’t caps he was looking for. Or NCR dollars. The legion kept paperwork. And if he was right about Jeannie May, and the courier hoped he was wrong…she would want a reminder. Of what happened when someone insulted her little corner of the Mojave. The safe came open with a click, and inside was the expected assortment of caps and NCR bills. Flynn felt a smidgen of relief at the seeming absence of his confirmation, Until the details struck him. Any travelers traveling through Novac would likely be NCR gamblers or caravan merchants. They’d pay with bills. Not caps. So.

Where did she get the caps?

Flynn took another glance at the suspicious currency. Checking the bundled amounts. In the wasteland, 500 cap pouches and thousand cap pouches were marked with loops of string. Two knots for a thousand, one knot for 500. And sure enough, two pouches with those exact amounts respectively sat within. Flynn knew her prices. He knew that even if she had been collecting the odd caps within the timeframe Carla left, she wouldn’t have this much. This was a lump sum payment.

He’d traveled Arizona for years before he freed Naomi. He knew the Legion’s prices for flesh.

This amount was for a child, and one woman.

As Flynn took the blood money from her safe, at the bottom of it, hidden under the pouches, was a folded note. The same one she was reading when he and Naomi first walked in. Reaching inside, The courier read the final nail in Jeannie May’s coffin.

We, the representatives of the Consul Officiorum, have this day bargained and purchased from Jeannie May Crawford of the township of Novac the exclusive rights to ownership and sale of the slave Carla Boone for the sum of one thousand bottle caps, and those of her unborn child for the sum of five hundred bottle caps, the receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged. We warrant the slave and her young to be sound, healthy, and slaves for life. We covenant with the said, Jeannie May Crawford, that we have full power to bargain and sell said slave and her offspring. Payment of an additional five hundred bottle caps will be due pending successful maturation of the fetus, the claim to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document. M. Scribonius Libo Drusus et al.

-Administrators of M. Licinius Crassus, Consul Officiorum ab Famulatus

Flynn crumpled the letter in his fist, shaking with incandescent rage. “You’ll pay for this…” He snarled.

With a firm knock of her door, Jeannie answered to find the courier standing on her front step. “Hello dear, is there something I can do for you? It’s rather late.” “There’s somethin’ out front of the dinosaur I want you to see, I want your opinion on it. Just a minor concern, honest, but it’s important. I promise!” His smile was still present, but Jeanie couldn’t help but feel that it was…hollow. “Oh…well, if you’re sure. Did you talk to Boone about what it is you wanted to show me?” “Oh sure I did! He said it was somethin’ you should know about!” The Novac innkeeper felt a pit form in her stomach, but nonetheless, she felt at ease knowing Boone would likely act in case the Courier tried anything.

As they approached the front of the dinosaur, The courier turned on his heel. “Jeannie, I want to say I’m sorry to drag you out this late but, I wanted to ask this and the dinosaur seemed like a good place…what happened to Boone’s wife?”

She got what she deserved. She thought to herself. “Oh, poor dear. I know he thinks she was taken, but it’s pretty likely she ran off. She was like…well, a cactus flower. Pretty to look at, but all prickly to touch. She always went on about how much better everything was in Vegas. Always tried to have Boone go back with her. I guess she got tired of waiting.” The courier nodded slowly. “That’s a shame. He really seems like he misses her.” Jeannie put on her best sympathetic look. “I know dear, but it’s probably for the best she’s gone. I’m sure that some other girl that’s nice and homely will come along and steal his heart.” Maybe even that other courier. She’s a pretty thing. Good manners too! I should try and introduce them! She briefly remembered that the two couriers seemed quite close. Oh dear. I hope she’s not taken with this one. He’s polite, sure. But he’s a drifter. He’ll never settle down, probably doesn’t even look her way. Best I try to convince her to stay. She’d be better off with a man who looks after her.

“Well, that’s just about what I wanted to ask. The man wanted me to ask around, and I find myself warming up to ‘Im. We’ve spent a few nights talkin’ up there and I guess he wanted to put his fears to rest. Just one more question.” “Ask away dear.” “What’s this?” The courier handed her a note, and the already cool night seemed to lower its temperature even further. Her bill of sale sat in her hands. “I found it in your safe Jeanie May. I’m a sucker for old love stories and you said it was a letter from your old flame. But when I read it…Jeannie, That ain’t a letter from a lover.” The innkeeper’s face paled and reddened at the same time. “What are you going through an old woman’s belongings for you hooligan?!” She shrieked. “I’m a lot of things Ma’am. And unfortunately, nosy is one of ‘em.” The courier replied simply. “I wanna know, you didn’t like her, and from what I can tell, some people didn’t either. But why? The legion? Slavery?” “She didn’t leave me with much choice! That uppity attitude you have is exactly why I sold her! I got rid of a poison from Novac, and I’m getting rid of another one tonight! Get up to that room I rented you, Pack up, and clear out! That one with you can stay, but you can die in some radioactive ditch for all I care you snake!”

The courier’s neutral expression didn’t change. Jeannie stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot angrily. “A snake Ma’am?” He asked. “Are you drunk or just thick? Yes a snake! You, walking in here with your High and mighty attitude! Stealing from my safe?! I bet you think this place is nothing compared to your fancy Vegas! It’s written all over you, city boy! Now clear out, before I get on the radio those legion boys left me and call another squad here to clear you out for me!” The old harridan shrieked. Worryingly, the courier did not move, did not change his expression, but his eyes, once dispassionate and disappointed, were now filled with a fiery hate. “You get all that Boone?” He said finally.

Jeannie’s blood ran cold as she heard a bolt action cocking in response from Rexy’s mouth. Whirling around, she saw Boone glaring down at her, the moonlight reflecting off his rifle’s scope. “N-Now Boone, be reasonable! You wouldn’t shoot an old woman-” “I’ve only got one word for you bitch.” Boone snarled down at her as he shouldered his rifle. “Run.”

The Novac innkeeper didn’t need to be told twice. Turning around, she began to sprint off into the desert. Cursing the courier all the while. For a moment, she considered that Boone would spare her. Right up until a searing pain through her right knee shattered that notion. Letting out a scream of agony, She collapsed, holding her ruined knee as it bled profusely. Taking one last frightful look back, she saw the courier, holding a rifle of his own with its barrel smoking, now wearing Boone’s Beret. The glint from Rexy’s mouth shifted, and Jeannie’s eye burst along with her skull as a .308 round went crashing through her grey matter. Spattering the road into Novac from Nelson with gore. She hadn’t gotten more than a few feet from where she’d turned. The courier approached her corpse, glaring hatefully at the remains of the old witch. “Burn in hell.” He hissed.

Walking into the lobby of the gift shop, he saw Boone walk out from the door to the sniper nest. “Nice shot, but I had it handled.” The courier shrugged and gave a more genuine smile than the one he’d shone to Jeannie May. “Sorry, I wanted my own piece.” “Oh? Why’s that?” “Naomi? The other courier? I freed her from the legion. I killed a frumentari captain and picked the lock on her collar” Boone went quiet at the revelation. “What made you suspect her?” He asked. “Well, first I asked around. Manny, Andy, hell, even No Bark. Manny gave me the same venomous shit Jeannie was spewing about her, but I feel like he had his own problems with her and was just parroting what he heard from her to justify it. Andy told me she had…opinions about this place, but it wasn’t meant to be hurtful. And No Bark? Well he told me something interesting.” Boone paled at the mention of the village nutcase. “No bark? Pal, you better not be telling me you believe even a quarter of what he says.” “I believe he saw a group of figures take Carla kickin’ and screamin’ from your room that night.” Flynn deadpanned. “Now, of course I took his explanation that it was molemen seeking to steal away the young and pretty with a good ten pounds of salt, but he mentioned one of ‘em stopped in the lobby of the Dee-lite. That pointed me to her safe. Inside? 1500 caps. In the bundle bags. No way she earned that much. Before I freed Naomi I traveled up and down Arizona. I know what price those bastards put on flesh. Then I found this in her safe.” “Just like them to keep paperwork…” Boone snarled. “What’re you gonna do now?” Flynn asked. “I’m not staying here, that’s for sure.” “You think they’ll suspect you?” “No. People die out there all the time. Besides, I was on break when it happened.” Boone replied with a smirk. “Hm. I’m hunting the bastard who shot me. If you wanna get out of here, then how about you join up with me and Naomi? Snipers work in teams right? We’re bound to come across more legion. Already they hit Nipton. And I don’t want Naomi back in their hands.” Flynn held out his hand in an offer. Boone considered it for a moment, staring intently behind his sunglasses before a small smile came to his face. “Deal.” He said, taking the courier’s hand.

[hannahhook7744]

Hey Little Hope Fandom!

I'm trying to make a list of hobbies and info about The Clarkes (Plus Vince) and need a bit help.

If I missed anything let me know in the comments down below.

Here's what I got so far.

James:

Born on April 8, 1929.

Died on January 17, 1972.

Factory Worker at Ravenden Textiles Factory.

Worked with Vince.

Married Anne at 19.

He adopted all 4 of the kids.

He likes sports and darts.

May have had a bit of a drinking problem.

His middle name started with T.

42 when he died.

Has a temper.

Didn't approve of Tanya and Vince dating.

Worried about the factory closing alot and thought the kids would be fine, though he did tell Anthony to look out for Megan due to Anne's worrying.

Anne:

Born on February 12, 1931

Died on January 17, 1972.

Married James at 17.

40 when she died.

Was unable to have biological children.

Worried about the kids alot. Megan especially.

Didn't approve of Tanya and Vince dating.

Had a book on parenting.

Was frustrated with James.

Looked to the reverend for help after reaching her wit’s end with Megan. 

Tanya:

Born on August 22, 1949.

Died on January 17, 1972.

22  when she died.

Middle name started with A.

Hated Little Hope and wanted to get away.

Practiced Paganism. 

Dated Vince Barnes.

Yelled at Megan for playing with matches once.

Poured coffee on a handsy guy at work.

Was a waitress. 

Had coworkers named Murray and Jeannie.

Painted stars on a tire swing with her dad when she was ten. 

Liked Jewelry. 

Gets frustrated easily.

Owned a diary.

Was miserable at home.

Calls Megan M and a living hell.

Drunk whiskey before.

Likes bowling and burgers.

Might have shared a room with Megan.

Dennis:

Born on April 29th,1951.

Died on  January 17, 1972.

Was 20 when he died.

His middle name started with F. 

Didn’t trust Vince.

Was a band guitarist.

Had tons of records and was a big fan of music.

He might have been adopted first.

Also may have been a thief based on a one off joke but maybe not.

Calls Megan bigfoot.

His band had posters.

He participated in a concert. 

His band was a rock band.

Played rugby and maybe football.

He won several awards. 

Anthony:

Was born on either 1953 or 1954. Exact date is unknown.

18 at the time of the fire.

Became a bus driver after his family died.

Is depressed and suicidal. 

Tanya calls him ‘Mr. Knight in Shining Armor’.

Was annoyed with his parents’ fighting and his dad’s drinking as well as with how everyone treated Megan.

He resents Megan after their family’s deaths. 

Built a doll in jail to remember Megan by.

Got burnt in the fire.

Was the second youngest of the family.

May have a fear of being left behind and might feel left out by his family.

Is traumatized after the fire.

Was fond of the witch trials.

Has mental health issues.

Was blamed for the fire.

Was helpful to the family.

Got along great with Vince before the fire.

Shared a room with Dennis.

His middle name was not revealed.

Played darts and may have played baseball or basketball.



Megan:

Born on June 16th,1960.

Died on January 27th, 1972.

Was 11, almost 12, when she died.

Her middle name started with R.

She was a problem child.

She had a history of playing with matches.

Was called M and the little princess by Tanya,

She was resented by a lot of people in the family.

Was mentored by the reverend for months.

Was the youngest.

Had a doll.

Became rebellious and felt like her family didn’t care about her.

May have read Tanya’s diary.

Watches tv.

Is called Big foot by Dennis. 

Has mental health issues or may be able to talk to ghosts.

Was scared of the reverend.

Art was her best subject.

Had a C average and had an F in history, writing, science, and physical education.

Was resentful towards her parents.

Vince:

Factory Worker at Ravenden Textiles Factory.

Worked with James.

Has a temper.

Tanya’s boyfriend.

Has a nice car everyone is jealous of.

Likes whiskey, western movies, burgers, and bowling. 

Plays dumb but is actually really smart.

Practiced Paganism. 

Never got over Tanya and drank a lot after her death. 

Got in trouble at work because of it.

Visits little hope after it closed down in 1979.

Wasn’t that much older than Tanya based on his looks.

Became depressed after Tanya died.

Abandoned his car after carving a sun into it and rides a creaky bike.

Took care of Tanya’s grave.

Got along with Anthony before the fire.

He drinks the brand of beer ‘singing nickel’. 

Played pool/darts with Anthony before.

If you can think of any hobbies I missed let me know please. I'm trying to write some fics and want a better feel on the characters and would hate to miss something. Please and thank you. Even if it's just one off things the characters have said when Anthony was hallucinating them.